


Distress Call

by Literally_the_sorriest_cop



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:13:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24564406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Literally_the_sorriest_cop/pseuds/Literally_the_sorriest_cop
Summary: Kim takes a deep breath, considering what to do. "It sounds like he needs to be hospitalized. That's some pretty intense-"Jean cuts him off "No. No ambulance, no hospitals, none of that shit. It..." His voice softens, "It would just make it worse. It'll scare him. Trust me on this.""Alright..." Kim sighs quietly. "To be clear, in Martinaise I was not there for the 'drink until he's in psychosis' part of Harry's stay. I didn't help with that."
Relationships: Harry Du Bois & Jean Vicquemare, Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	Distress Call

  
Kim Kitsuragi has been working at Precinct 41 for a few months following the case in Martinaise. The transition has been good for both of them. Harry has been mostly sober since returning, much to the surprise of his fellow officers. Kim is happy that he gets to continue working with Harry, with whom he is secretly enamored.

Tonight, Kim was up later than usual. His radio played soft melodies while he carefully slid a tiny wheel onto the axle of a miniature motor carriage about the size of a small loaf of bread. It was a model he started earlier this week and was making fair progress on it. His eyes were tired and he was considering calling it a night. While lifting another minuscule piece of motor carriage pinched between his thumb and forefinger, he's startled by his phone ringing. He flips his wrist to glance at his watch, which informs him it was 12:06am. He lowers the piece onto his coffee table with surgical precision and got to the phone by the third ring. "Hello?" He answers in his regular even tone, masking his curiousity of who in the world could be calling him this late. 

"Kitsuragi, I've got a situation. I'm sorry I'm calling you like this. I know it's late." It doesn't take long for Kim to identify the voice as Jean Vicquemare. His tone is tired and apologetic. 

"Yes?" Kim responds calmly. 

"Look, it's-" Jean is cut off by a loud crash. "God. Fucking. Damnit." He mutters. "If you don't sit the FUCK down!" Jean sharply scolds someone while holding the phone away. 

There is silence for a moment. Kim shifts uncomfortably on his feet. Jean's voice returns, no longer hiding his irritability. "It's Harry. This...*dipshit* took God knows what at some college party, like he's mid-life crisis incarnate, and now he's losing his goddamn mind. A normal person would sleep it off, but not Harry, oh no. That would make too much sense, that would inconvenience too few of his colleagues." 

Kim listened patiently. Jean continued after collecting his thoughts. "Kim, I wouldn't be calling like this unless it was *absolutely* necessary. Unlike some people, I don't like to be a helpless fucking burden to everyone around me." He says the last part louder, presumably directed at Harry. "I've seen him fucked up countless times, but not like this. He's a fucking mess. He's not only being violent and inconsolable, he's....confused. Like he doesn't know where he is. I've kept him contained for the past hour hoping he would wear himself out but I can't do this by myself all night. I'm exhausted. You're the only person that might be able to get through to him. Come over here and do whatever the fuck you did in Martinaise. Please." 

Kim takes a deep breath, considering what to do. "It sounds like he needs to be hospitalized. That's some pretty intense-"

Jean cuts him off "No. No ambulance, no hospitals, none of that shit. It..." His voice softens, "It would just make it worse. It'll scare him. Trust me on this." 

"Alright..." Kim sighs quietly. "To be clear, in Martinaise I was not there for the 'drink until he's in psychosis' part of Harry's stay. I didn't help with that." 

"Fine. Either way I'm fucked over here-" Jean stops suddenly to address some other distraction being caused by Harry. Kim can hear a struggle of some kind and then Jean is back on the line. "Will you come?" He finally asks outright. He hesitates to say the next part. "He asked for you, one of the times I could understand what the fuck he was saying." 

Kim felt strangely flattered that Harry asked for him. "Yes. Give me fifteen minutes." Kim flipped his wrist to see his watch again. "Tell him I'm coming. Maybe he'll be easier for you manage until I get there."   
Jean, sounding relieved, thanks Kim and gives him directions to his apartment.

__________________________________________________________________________________

  
Kim is filled with nervous energy. He decides there is no time to pack an overnight bag. He dresses himself and hurries to Jean's. His stomach is in knots, wondering just how bad this is going to be. What can I possibly do to help this situation? If he is truly that delirious...

Next he stands at Jean's door and his fist hovers for a moment, about to knock. Shouting can be heard from within. Kim raps his knuckles loudly, hoping it will be heard. He jumps back a bit when the door is flung open by Jean, sporting a bloodied lip that was undoubtedly bestowed upon him by Harry.

Harry is swaying and pacing like a caged animal, head in his hands. The whole apartment is in disarray. Just a quick look around reveals that a table has been flipped, a shelf torn off of the wall, chairs laying about. There's broken glass on the kitchen floor. Generally, there is busted shit everywhere.

Too fatigued to be snarky, Jean gestures towards Harry. "He's been like this for about ten minutes. The pacing." He rubs his eyes with his finger tips and shakes his head. "This isn't too bad compared to the *other things.*"   
Kim observes carefully for a moment and takes a step closer to Harry. His heart is racing. He is subconsciously relying on Jean to speak up if he thinks Harry will react dangerously. Harry seems unaware that there are other people in the room. He can be heard faintly mumbling to himself. 

"Harry?" Kim says gently. He says his name again a bit louder, but just as gently. Harry still has not noticed him.

Taking a few daring steps closer, Kim interrupts the path that Harry has been walking. Kim's hands are held out, ready to either console or defend. Predictably, Harry walks right into Kim's waiting hands. It snaps him out of his trance for the moment and he struggles to focus on the person standing in his way. 

"Harry." Kim says again. Saying his name feels unnatural, but he knows that will be more effective in his current state than his usual titles. Harry's eyes are lost and confused, like he's been roaming the jungle alone for weeks. Recognition slowly registers on his face. "...Kim? What are you doing here?" Again, he says it as if he was separated from his party on a great expedition and has been hacking through the underbrush with a machete prior to seeing Kim. 

Standing with his arms crossed, Jean waits to see if Kim's approach will work or if he will be mauled. He is ready to step in if Harry becomes volatile. 

Kim's hands rest firmly on Harry's biceps. "Do you know where you are?" He asks calmly. Harry appears to be distracted and his response to the question is delayed. He opens his mouth as if he's going to speak and then closes it. Nervously he shifts on his feet and he's clenching and unclenching his fists. "I'm not sure." He looks embarrassed, understanding that he should know the answer. 

"That's okay." Kim says in a calm, low voice. "We're at Jean's apartment. Do you remember now?" He searches Harry's eyes and waits patiently for him to answer. Harry looks away uncomfortably, his face contorting with pained expressions. Suddenly he yanks himself away from Kim's hands and looks panicked. He begins to look all around, backing away. Kim turns back to Jean, his eyebrows furrowed. "It seems he is hallucinating. Do you have any idea what he took exactly?" 

Jean is holding a match up to the end of the cigarette he has placed in his lips, the bottom of which is swollen. He pulls in the smoke and shakes the match out. "Who fucking knows? When he first got here he said he took 'a bunch of shit' that some fucking kids gave him. And then, here is the *real* kicker, after about 20 minutes he starts asking *me* if he had taken drugs! Raving fucking lunatic." 

Kim is amazed that Jean was able to single-handedly keep Harry safe from himself for over an hour like this. Harry continues to back himself towards a corner of the room. A floor lamp lays on its side behind his feet and he trips over it, falling back against the wall. He shrieks and kicks the lamp away. Kim frowns, running scenarios through head to decide his next step. He approaches slowly, nearly tiptoeing. Harry lowers his head and places his hands over his ears. 

"OKAY! OKAY? I KNOW!" Harry shouts at no one in particular. "I'M THE WORLD'S GREATEST MISTAKE! MY WORTHLESSNESS IS ABSOLUTE! I AM A MONUMENT TO DISAPPOINTMENT!" It's unclear if he is reacting to Jean or the chaos in his mind. Harry grabs the only object within reach, Jean's telephone, and hurls it with all of his might. Kim sidesteps to avoid it, although it was not aimed at him. It smashes pathetically against the wall, littering the floor with chunks of plastic and small lengths of wire. 

"Well, I hope you don't change your mind about calling an ambulance." Kim says dryly. Unexpectedly, that elicits an amused sound from Jean.

Harry begins to hyperventilate, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head against them. With great concern and care, Kim lowers himself until he squatting beside Harry. Kim places a hand on Harry's shoulder.   
"Hey." Kim says softly. "Can you hear me, Harry?"

Harry nods slowly but doesn't look up. He continues to breathe rapidly, his arms crossed over his face. Kim can feel him trembling under his gloved hand.

"You're alright, Harry. Everything is alright." Kim's voice is even and calm. "You took some kind of drugs tonight. Do you remember what kind of drugs they were?"

Hyperventilating dissolves into gasping breaths, which then turns to crying. He takes a long shuddering breath in and sobs loudly into his knees. 

The sight of the broken man before him squeezes Kim's heart. He hates to see anyone like this, but it being Harry is especially distressing. Kim sits all the way down on the floor beside Harry, his legs crossed. He removes his gloves and tucks them into his jacket pocket. Then he scoots a little closer and places his hand in the middle of Harry's back. The white shirt he's wearing is stuck against him with sweat. He gently rubs up and down Harry's back. Harry continues to cry helplessly, all communication reduced to gibberish.   
"I can't understand you. You have to calm down." Kim says quietly. 

Jean has stepped closer, cigarette smoldering between his fingers. "I don't want to jinx it, but he might be wearing himself out. Let's fucking hope so." His voice holds less malice than before, more weariness. Kim acknowledges this with a nod and then his eyes are back on Harry. Jean holds the cigarette in his teeth for a moment and tugs on the bottom of his sofa (one of the few pieces of furniture that is upright) to reveal a pull-out bed. The mattress look fairly worn, but not entirely uncomfortable. "I'll set this up, Kitsuragi. You keep doing what you're doing." The last part is said with a hint of praise. He snuffs out his cigarette and digs clean linens out of a nearby closet. Soon the bed is hastily made, but with more care than Kim would have expected from Jean in this situation.

Harry hasn't moved from his spot on the floor with Kim. His crying has quieted to soft murmuring and sniffling. He seems comforted by Kim's presence.  
  
"Come lie down, Harry. You will feel better." Kim says, his voice soothing but directive.  
  
Harry's head lifted slowly. His red, puffy eyes meet Kim's, conveying a dark hopelessness that unsettles him. Slowly rising until he's back on his feet, Kim extends his hands to Harry and pulls him up. Harry doesn't seem to want to let go of his hands, but he does. 

With an end to the nightmare in sight, Jean's demeanor has changed from hostile to paternal. He sighs with his hands on his hips. "Alright, big guy. Let's get you to bed, huh?" He looks Harry over and wordlessly starts to unbutton Harry's sweaty shirt. Harry stood there, shoulders slouched, looking absolutely crushed with shame and sadness. Jean pulls the shirt off of him with care and tosses it on an overturned chair beside him. Observing Jean's change of heart, it occurs to Kim that there is a reason Harry came here when he was afraid...when he couldn't trust his own mind anymore.

Jean guides Harry down so he's sitting on the edge of the bed. "Take your shoes off. You're not ruining my sheets." He grumbles. 

Harry complies, kicking them off with minimal effort. Tears start streaking down his cheeks silently. "I....I'm sorry." He chokes out, "I'm sorry I'm like this. I'm sorry you have to deal with me. I wish I was dead. I should have killed myself instead of coming here." He wipes his eyes with the heels of his hands.

Kim frowns. He hates this. If only I could hold him, Kim thinks, I could take this pain away from him.

"No, Harry." Jean says simply. "Stop. Stop it." It's evident that Jean has heard this speech a thousand times and doesn't have the energy to properly debate it this time. "Are you sleeping with your pants on?" He asks impatiently.

"I...I don't care." Harry mumbles. 

"Let me rephrase that. Take your damn pants off. You know you don't want them on. Let's go." Jean snaps his fingers twice. 

Kim gives Jean a curious look. How many times has Jean cared for an intoxicated and out of sorts Harry? This seems...routine.

It's clear that Harry has no fight left in him now. He unbuckles his pants and pushes them onto the floor. He's quickly transitioned from hysterics to catatonia. 

"Lay down." Jean directs him, lifting the sheet slightly. Harry manages to pull his legs into bed and lie back properly. 

"I....don't...please." Harry pleads under his breath.

"What? What is it?" Jean asks. It seems he has reserved all of his remaining patience for this moment.

"Please don't leave me alone." Harry says, looking ashamed again.

Jean rubs his temples in irritation. "No. I'm done babysitting you tonight. You'll be fine. Just...go to sleep, Harry. I can't do this anymore."

Harry's pitiful eyes are on Kim now. It pains him to ask for any more help tonight, he is already mortified by how pathetic he is, but its somehow outweighed by the looming terror of his own thoughts. "Please Kim. Can you...sit here with me? I don't want to be alone when it comes back." He says it as if Kim has seen whatever "it" is, as if they have some shared understanding. Kim assumes that Harry's hallucinations are coming in waves and he is now experiencing some sort of respite.

Kim glances at Jean. "Yes, I can do that. As long as Jean does not mind that I stay."

"Stay, sure. That's fine." Jean says tiredly. He yawns and looks around his trashed living room, undoubtedly wondering how long it will take to straighten tomorrow. "You'll sleep...on the pull out too? Or do you want some blankets for the floor?" 

"Hm." Kim considers for a moment. "I'm fine with the pull out, I'll make it work." Kim feigns disinterest in sharing a bed with Harry. He'd never take advantage of a situation like this, but he can't help but feel excited to be close to him. 

"Alright. Well, if he decides that 3AM is a good time for round two of wigging the *fuck* out, you know where to find me." Jean says gruffly, and then wanders to his bedroom, softly closing the door behind him.

Kim is intensely aware of it just being the two of them now. He walks around to the other side of the bed and takes off his shoes. He hangs up his coat. He leaves on his pants and white undershirt. Harry has turned onto his side facing Kim and has the sheet pulled up to his chin. His eyes are half-shut and unfocused.

Kim clears his throat. "How do you feel?" He asks softly.

Harry slowly shakes his head. He looks absolutely despondent.

"Do you want me to turn the light off?" Kim asks, pointing to the remaining floor lamp that has been burdened with lighting the whole living room, its brethen having been laid to waste earlier in the evening. 

Harry fidgets, his eyes shifting in thought. "I think so, yeah." He says in a very small voice. 

Kim makes his way to the lamp and tugs the string, enveloping them in darkness. He carefully feels his way back to the bed. It creaks as he settles next to Harry. He wonders if Harry is still experiencing hallucinations and if there is anything else he can do to help. Kim isn't sure how to proceed, or what to say, if anything. The silence grows louder the longer he hesitates.

"I shouldn't have asked you to stay. I'm sorry." Harry blurts out, "I'm such a fucking loser. I'm sorry I'm a loser, Kim. I should just-" Its clear that this is all Harry has been thinking since the lights were turned out.

"Harry, stop please." Kim's voice, serene as ever, cuts through Harry's tirade of self-deprecation and apologies. "You don't need to do this. It was my choice to stay here with you. Everything is fine. Please, try to relax." 

Silence follows. Kim is uncertain if Harry's compliance is due to feeling reassured or simply because he doesn't want to annoy Kim with his apologies anymore. There is a slight rustling sound as Kim pulls the sheet over himself as well. He lays on his side facing Harry, blinking in the dark. He can feel Harry's warmth is radiating beside him. Kim wishes he could read his mind, or at least his expression. He has a growing concern that Harry's mood will rapidly change and all of this settling down will be undone. Then he hears sniffling and realizes Harry is tearful again.

"I'm scared, Kim." Harry's voice shakes. "All these...*things* keep happening and I keep seeing..." He can't finish his sentence. Kim frowns in the darkness. 

"Come here." Kim says softly. Before Harry can react, Kim wraps his arms around him and pulls him closer, until their bodies are entwined. His hand cradles Harry's head against his chest. Harry is stunned for a moment, never having experienced this kind of affection from Kim. His muscles relax slowly and he sinks fully into the embrace, closing his eyes. The crying tapers off quickly and his breathing slows. Kim makes soothing circles with his fingertips on Harry's back, his bare skin warm to the touch.  
  
Ten minutes or so pass, and Kim is certain that Harry must be close to sleep. Harry lifts his head and Kim thinks he's going to say something, but instead he feels warm lips collide with his and a bold hand venturing under his shirt. Kim feels as though air raid sirens are going off in his head. I can't do this, Kim thinks, It's not right, he's not thinking straight. Despite this, he instinctively reacts to Harry's touch and reciprocates the tender kissing. If I make him stop, Kim thinks, will that send him spiraling again? Harry presses his hardness against Kim's thigh, rolling his hips. It's becoming more difficult for Kim to think clearly. 

Before Kim comes to a conclusion, Harry pulls away. "Oh, fuck...god why did you do that you stupid asshole? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Harry berates himself aloud. "I shouldn't have....god, Kim, I'm sorry-" His voice is panicked and cracking. "Its bad enough Jean hates me, now you're going to hate me too-"

Kim's decision is suddenly made easy. Harry's self-esteem is shattered. He is insecure and vulnerable. Even if he assured Harry it was fine and tried to move on, Harry would drive himself crazy with guilt and shame. He'd relive the embarrassment of it over and over in his mind, just like he does with countless other mistakes. 

Kim brings his hand up to Harry's face and caresses it, his thumb brushing Harry's bottom lip. Harry is stunned again and stops abruptly. 

"It's okay." Kim whispers. He connects his lips with Harry's once more, his movements slow and deliberate. A soft moan hums in Harry's throat as he returns the kiss. Kim pushes his fingers through Harry's hair, his kisses growing deeper. His lips curl into a smile in the dark and his hand glides down Harry's stomach and the very tips of his fingers tease the waistband of his briefs. Harry inhales sharply through his nose and his body reacts to the sensation. 

Kim gently breaks the kiss and speaks softly into Harry's ear "Do you want this?" 

Harry nods quickly. "Yes." He whispers. 

Kim presses his lips against Harry's neck and his hand continues its journey downward. The back of his hand discovers a wet spot in Harry's briefs before he yanks them down and he begins to stroke him. Harry lets out a breathy whine and his head tilts back. Kim kisses down his throat and chest, eventually reaching his nipple. Harry gasps and turns his face away. The pleasure of Kim's touch is causing him to writhe. He whimpers helplessly as Kim's hand pumps a little faster and his mouth pulses around his nipple. Kim can tell he's already on the edge now, his legs are starting to shake. "I-I....I..." Harry tries to speak. It sounds like a warning.

Kim lifts his mouth away for a moment. "Come for me, it's okay." He says in a low, calm voice. When his mouth wraps around the nipple again he sucks it a little harder and faster. 

"Oh fuck-" Harry moans loudly into his clenched fist. He bites down on it as he comes all over his stomach and Kim's hand, his hips bucking desperately, his other hand gripping the sheet beneath him. Then all of his muscles relax and he lies there breathing heavily. 

Kim slowly moves his hand away. Having taken a mental note of where the bathroom was when he arrived, Kim whispers "Don't move." as he goes to get tissues. Soon they are cleaned up as best they can manage in the dark. 

Once Kim settles back in the bed, Harry rests his hand is on Kim's hip. "I can do something for you..." It's apparent that he feels awkward, but also exhausted from the combination of events this evening. 

Kim shushes him with a kiss. As far as he was concerned, his mission was accomplished. 

"I'm fine, don't worry about me. You need to sleep. I hope I've made that easier for you." Kim answers softly. 

Harry doesn't protest. His eyes flutter closed as he lies on his back. He wraps his arm around Kim and holds him. Kim rests his head in the nook of his arm and chest. It's silent again for a time.  
"Kim?" Harry whispers.  
"Hmm?"   
"I feel a lot better now."  
"That's good. I'm glad." Kim smiles subtly. He has a feeling Harry isn't done.  
"...Kim?"  
"Yes."  
"I think I'm coming down from whatever I took...but I was still tripping balls through some of that. Soooo....that was *pretty* crazy for me."  
Kim snorts with laughter. "I suspected as much." He finds Harry's hand where it rests on his bare stomach and their fingers lace together. Kim closes his eyes and listens to the sound of Harry's breathing. Once he is sure that Harry is safely asleep, he allows himself to drift off as well.  



End file.
